She didn’t dare turn to the side. For a while, she listened to the man’s breathing and then got out of bed without looking at him. She had no idea what his name was, nor could she remember his face. Flashes of embarrassing moments from the night before resurfaced in her mind, and she shuddered as the unsettling memories came back. She feared that the shame she felt would never leave her. She sat in front of the mirror, staring at herself for a long time. The makeup from the day before, her alcohol-flushed skin, and the dark circles under her eyes only deepened her despair. She knew she had reached some kind of endpoint—a place where, for her, there was no way forward. This wasn’t who she was. This wasn’t her path. She needed to start over somehow.
It was that man who told her that others thought she was an ugly woman trying to tie him down. He figured that if Mona believed no one else would want her, she wouldn’t leave him. Since she didn’t have much confidence in herself anyway, Mona accepted this without question. She didn’t worry about it—she treated it as fact and learned to live with it. But after the man repeatedly pointed out her flaws, Mona began to feel uncomfortable around him, and they eventually broke up. His tactic had backfired. Mona ended up pitying him for staying with her despite her supposed ugliness. Guilt gnawed at her, and she wished he would find himself a beautiful woman.
Mona found a kind of peace, at least for a while. She no longer wanted to draw attention to herself, nor did she try to be attractive. She wasn’t upset if no one asked her to dance because she knew that’s just how life was for ugly women. Envy and jealousy faded, and for a time, the world seemed in order.
Tim was the most handsome man she had ever seen. When he smiled at her, Mona instinctively looked behind her, curious about who the lucky person was that this gorgeous man was looking at. There was no one behind her. She smiled back, hesitantly, a little in disbelief. But sitting in front of the mirror with her smudged makeup, thinking back to that smile, everything had gone wrong. That was when the desire to prove to the world, but most of all to herself, that she could be attractive to someone, to anyone, or even to everyone, began. From then on, there was no stopping her. She boldly initiated, taking the first steps without hesitation. Anyone she found even slightly appealing, she took to bed. See? I can have anyone! She didn’t need a partner, just as many wild nights as possible, to make the universe apologize for allowing her to be called ugly. Of course, she never saw Tim again. After a few wild parties, he disappeared. At the time, Mona shrugged it off. If he couldn’t keep up… She couldn’t stop. She had an important mission—to chase validation that would make her believe she was attractive. But that validation remained frustratingly elusive. More and more people ended up in her bed, yet something still didn’t feel right. The mornings didn’t bring satisfaction but rather a growing emptiness in her chest. She blamed it on fatigue. She took a few weeks off, surprised at how little she missed the parties and the taste of strangers mixed with alcohol.
After that, she threw herself back into seduction with forced cheerfulness, playing her role with less and less enjoyment. Meanwhile, the emptiness in her chest ached more with each passing day. She was confused. She couldn’t understand why the long-awaited sense of satisfaction and confidence hadn’t arrived. Finally, on that morning, with smudged makeup and a puffy face, she understood. The countless conquests hadn’t proven that she was desirable but rather that she would sleep with anyone at the first sign of interest. She was the kind of person who didn’t require much effort to win over—a few drinks were enough to replace courting and conversation.
Slowly, she wiped off her makeup. She pitied herself. She decided the pain she already felt was enough; she didn’t need to add more. She would take a shower, send the stranger away, and start again without dwelling too much on the past. After all, she couldn’t change that.